Continuing with place names. Hostivar is a place I once lived, until I found out what it means. „Host“ means „Guest“ (which is so confusing and downright contrary to common sense that I won’t even try to explain why this is…just accept it) and „Varit“ means cook, especially by boiling. It’s lucky I’m so skinny. I was wondering why granny kept giving me food and then testing my pinky finger to see how I was fattening up. The chubby backpacker I once knew is no longer to be found. But I escaped, and having lived to tell the tale am now warning everyone to stay well away from Hostivar, or you’ll find yourself in the the soup pot.